You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘fear’ tag.

 

 

in the darkness it shone

white and ghostly

swaying as if suspended on a stalk

its roots deep in the nebula

invisible moorings

sapping light

 

Art: Odilon Redon, Strange Flower (Little Sister of the Poor), 1880

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I saw your face

It was a dream

It was real

I don’t know

I saw your face

You were here

I missed you

Until the next time

When we are both cats…

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Art: Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Boy with a Cat

 

 

 

It is hiding in the corners

Lurking just out of sight

Weighing heavy on my chest

Invisible Succubus

Reality unchained

Raw

Merciless

Soul-less

By whose measure?

And why fear it?

….

john_henry_fuseli_-_the_nightmare

Art: John Henry Fuseli, The Nightmare, 1781

 

bosch

 

E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle.

And so we came forth, and once again beheld the stars

-Dante

 

Art: Ascent of the Blessed (fragment) by Hieronymus Bosch

 

 

quantum-physics

 

(…) and it was at that very moment that all the worlds collapsed into one. He was, and then he wasn’t, and the two states existed simultaneously. With here and now no longer valid, he stopped thinking. Forever. He was one.

The end

©aother

crystal_bowls-300x287

Art: Alex Grey

 

 

I am fishing for help.

I am casting for salvation.

I am crying out for assistance.

I am sinking.

Help me.

Why?

Why when you are sinking too.

Why?

A word floats in….

It floats in silently…

It touches me…

It touches you…

Can’t you feel it?

It’s love.

Love.

Love.

And then…

The End.

Love eternal.

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SOMETHING IS PRESSING ON MY MIND

SOMETHING IS WRIGGLING TO THE FRONT

SOMETHING WILL NOT JUST LET ME BE

IT WILL NOT NOT TILL I DIE

SOMETHING IS EATING ME INSIDE

SOMETHING I CAN AND WON’T WITHHOLD

I AM MY OWN WORST CANNIBAL

WITH NO HOPE LEFT NO HOPE AT ALL

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Art: Francis Bacon, Self Portrait

Ce-matin=St-Jean-de-MathaMy friend wrote this poem. And I felt every word…

for all that was lost,
something else was found … the curiosity,
for no particular reason,
to see what was inside.
sometimes i am released from
everything that was ever bad,
anything left to create a horrible memory.
sometimes it is all gone.
the only thing that i am left with is
the hope of something more –
that one day i’ll look up
and smile about what such a tragedy it was.

 

down the rabbit hole

again

chased by the familiar smell

of fear

sharp like ice

slowly burrowing into that place

where I cannot hide

not from this

not from

me

 

 

Alex_Grey-Collective_Vision

Art: Alex Grey

 

 

 

Tangled up in filaments of fear

Tripping on hope

Slipping on longing

I stumble and grope in despair

The unknown my hunting ground

Without end

Bordered by death

And life

Tangled up in a web of providence

I release my hold on all

And breathe in anew…

 

©aother

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